(I am sitting at my desk behind the nurses’ station when one of our new patients approaches me.)

Patient: “Can you do me a favor and check my lab work for me?”

Me: “I sure can, sir. Let me get you pulled up, here. What did you want me to look over?”

Patient: “Can you check to see if there’s any diabetes in my blood?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Patient: “Diabetes. In my blood.”

Me: “Did you mean your glucose level, sir?”

Patient: *clearly exasperated* “No, I mean if the doctor found any diabetes in my blood.”

Me: “Sir, that’s… that’s not how diabetes works.”

Related:
What A Diabeetus, Part 3
What A Diabeetus, Part 2
What A Diabeetus

(I go to a family doctor, meaning she’s qualified to treat children and adults, so she’s been seeing me since I was 12. I’m 18 at the time of the story. This conversation takes place during my annual check-up.)

Me: “Can you write me a referral to the gynecologist? I want to get an IUD.”

Doctor: “What? Why do you need an IUD? You said on the forms that you’re not sexually active.”

Me: “Well, I’m not yet, but I’m leaving for college, and I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

Doctor: “No. No, you’re too young for birth control.”

Me: “Excuse me? I’m eighteen.”

Doctor: “And you’re not married. You’re too young for birth control, and besides, if you have an IUD and you get pregnant, chances are you’d miscarry when you had it removed.”

Me: “Being married doesn’t have anything to do with it, and if I got pregnant while on birth control, it’s not like I’d want to carry the pregnancy to term, anyway. And isn’t the chance of getting pregnant with an IUD, like, less than one percent?”

Doctor: “It doesn’t matter; I won’t write you a referral. Does your mother know you’re planning this? I need to speak to your mother.”

Me: “Hang on. I am eighteen years old—”

(She walks out of the office and into the waiting room and gets my mother. My mom comes into the exam room and listens to her, while I protest.)

Mom: “Um… [Doctor], you do realize you just committed a pretty major HIPPA violation, right? She’s eighteen, and legally an adult. She’s allowed to make these choices herself.”

Doctor: “Well! I am not writing this referral for a young girl to be given an IUD!”

Me: “Fine! I’ll figure it out myself!”

(My mom helped me get an appointment with a gynecologist — which my insurance allows me to do, but the way the system is set up, for non-emergencies it’s much easier to get an appointment if your GP gives you a referral first — and we filed a complaint with the hospital against the doctor. She was an older woman, and apparently this wasn’t the first time she’d tried to push her own agenda on a patient, but it was the first time she’d disclosed medical information without someone’s consent, so she was “encouraged to retire” and no longer practices medicine.)

Related:
IOU One IUD

(I’m 15 years old. I’m at my general practitioner, because I noticed I’ve been having trouble with my eyesight.)

Me: “I can see quite all right with my left eye, but when I only use my right eye, I notice a clear difference in brightness.”

Doctor: “Hmm, let’s see. Could you cover your left eye?”

(The doctor walks to a board with letters and starts pointing at them.)

Me: “B… C… F… X…”

(The doctor goes to the smaller letters, which are more difficult to read. But at some point, I’m totally unable to see where he is pointing.)

Doctor: “This one, please.”

Me: *no verbal reaction*

Doctor: “Hello? [My Name]! This one! Can you read it?”

Me: “I can’t see what letter you are pointing at.”

Doctor: “Oh, wait. Maybe I shouldn’t use a white pen on a white background for this.”

(My dad’s a dentist and I am at his office to pick him up after work because his car is in the shop. His last patient for the day is a little boy of about seven, and the moment I get in I can hear the parents yelling at him.)

Mother: “What do you mean his teeth are rotten?! They can’t be!”

My Dad: “Madam, your son has an extreme case of tooth decay, which is why he’s been having terrible tooth pains. I can possibly mend some of them, but he’ll probably have to have the majority of them pulled.”

Mother: “I can’t believe this. How could this happen?”

My Dad: “Well, does he eat a lot of candy?”

Mother: “He doesn’t eat sugar.”

My Dad: “Do you give him anything at night?”

Mother: “Yes, we give him honey.”

(They got super angry with my dad when he told them that was why their kid had bad teeth.)

(We have just finished working with a cat who was so scared of being at the vet that she soiled herself, and then got it everywhere. I have finished cleaning the treatment area but have yet to wash my hands. As with all health fields, it’s common knowledge that anything on your hands will eventually end up in your mouth if you don’t wash them.)

Vet: “Would you like to look at her ear slide?”

Me: “Sure. Let me just wash my hands first.”

Vet: *jokingly* “You mean you don’t want to end up eating poop?”

(I start giggling.)

Me: “It’s not that I don’t want to ingest poop; I just don’t want to smell it on my hands!”